The Winter Guests
by the-obsessee
Summary: Severus Snape has a ritual fondness for bars. But tonight, he finds more than alcholic solace in the walls of the Three Broomsticks. Please R&R!
1. Default Chapter

The Winter Guests.

A sure foot planted itself into the icy, snow covered road that meandered its way into the heart of Hogsmeade. The houses were illuminated in a warm, luminescent light that gave the magicked town character and a strange element of romance. It was magnetic and it drew the cold hearted Severus ever closer, despite the whipping winds and harsh chill. The cloak's warmth and protection was wrapped firmly around his thin frame as he trudged into the three Broomsticks, to find solace from the intolerable cold.

The wooden doors swung open and revealed a safe haven from the ice. The room was dark yet so welcoming to the not so distant traveller and the atmosphere was prevalent. Unique creatures were concealed in the shadows of the room, remaining isolated from the conversing crowd of witches and wizards. Snape's cold eyes kept him well distant from the social pool as he successfully pushed himself into solitude. This bar was a form of escapism for the tired professor, he did not need to exert himself and reveal his social ineptitude. It was one of the main reasons why he found the dank and dreary bar a comfort, as opposed to the castle which forced him into an uncomfortable routine.

Potter. The word slipped into his realm of complex contemplation. He wanted to erase the memory however found he was not capable of the feat and the name became heavier with every passing breath. Hate was a mild term to describe the relationship between the famous school boy and the infamous intellectual of the dark arts. That Harry was so conceited, so proud and uncontrollable and sent him into spasms of loathing and disgust. His tactful attempts of lowering the cloud ridden Potter would have been deemed pointless, however Snape showed resilience and continued the torment, the very same torment James instilled onto him.

The line between reality and thought became unclear and ambiguous. Snape was so absorbed into this other realm that he became ignorant of the beautiful gothic that sat beside him. Her enigmatic eyes glanced over at Snape with an undeniable interest and insatiable lust.

" Have I seen you before?" Snape glanced up and reluctantly returned to the world of supposed reality.

" Please, don't burden me with your originality." He drawled cruelly. " Before you persist to embarrass yourself, my legs are very much fine and my father was not a thief." The gothic raised a pierced eyebrow and her blue eyes intensified.

" It was not some cliched pick up line." Snape shook his head in the attempt to ward of her explanation however it proved to be pointless. " You are the distinguished professor. Snape, am I correct?"

" Why is it your concern?" 

" I've been observing you." The temptation to leave was remarkably strong. " With a closeted interest. You deserve far more credit than you receive." She softly ran her white hand along his arm, her black fingernails blending into Snape's black coat.

" Oh really?" Snape sounded positively bored at her antics.

" You have taught many ill deserving students who have become great witches or wizards because of your unique passion and knowledge of potions. I share that love of a hot, bubbling cauldron and creating glorious concoctions that are so intricate and precise." The woman pushed her sleek black hair away from her pale and slender face, revealing intense red lips the colour of blood. " I understand the feeling of not being appreciated Severus. We all need to be rewarded for our efforts at some stage."

" How can you relate to it?" Snape remained distant and weary.

" I am a professor, well, I considered myself to be a professor for a great deal of my career. I taught at Durmstrang, teaching rich brats with no form of intelligence. How they tormented me, how they had the potential to anger me with such an unbridled passion."

" I suppose you do have a point." He gestured a waitress over.

" Two Butterbears please." The goth cut in crudely. " I ordered it on the basis that I can safely assume that you will not be my source of heat for the night."

" Do you believe in subtlety?" She shook her beautiful head and for the first time, it actually engaged Snape. This was the first glimpse of beauty that he had experienced in a long time and the refreshing sensation was overwhelming. It was not animalistic, however it was one of admiration for her confidence and her passion. Each word she spoke resonated with a ardour, her self expression and eloquence was unheard of. Here was a woman who understood him, the one thing he had ever wanted from a person, regardless of who that person may be.

He gave her a final glance, only to realise that his facade was degrading, crumbling around him. His fortress was not as strong as it previously was. He was vulnerable, a place he never wanted to find himself in. It was a place he resented most, that feeling of need and weakness. How was a woman capable of that? Where did she obtain the powers to strip a person of their outer coating and leave him relatively bare?

" My name is Celia." She whispered into his ear soothingly, running her long tongue around the edges sensuously. " I know that your name is Severus, however I will find your true identity." Celia smiled and stood up. Her black skirt dragged along the wooden floorboards and the candle light showed little appreciation for her remarkable figure. One final glance and she had left. Just that brief conversation had him dying to hear more of that calming, soft voice. 

" Shit." He whispered quietly, his black, greasy hair falling onto his face. His hand slipped into his pocket and took out one gold galleon. He placed it beside his untouched butterbeer and prepared himself for the long trek to the castle.

His foot plummeted into the ice which had become a great deal thicker. The freeze ran cruelly up his leg and he barely tolerated the conditions. He wanted to return to the warmth of the bar, only something would not allow him to do so. Into the distance his saw the long, black billowing hair, freely caressing the strong gale. Her slender frame was wrapped in a long, black flowing cape which brushed against the white snow, leaving a faint reminder of her presence. It spurred the Potions master on, his feet crushing the snow in a panic. 

" Celia!" He called out, his voice hardly reaching the gothic. Celia stopped and turned slowly around, adjusting her thick scarf.

" Severus, what a surprise. I thought you enjoyed the confines of the three broomsticks. What prompted you to return to the harsh world of realism?" A glorious smile was drawn on her face, intelligent and witty.

" Dumbledore." The smile faded slightly.

" Of course, your work calls you." A long, vibrant red scarf freed itself from the heavy imprisonment of the black cloak. Celia caressed it with her delicate hands, her blood red lips kissed the silken fabric. " I must leave. Here." She threw the scarf into the air and it snaked its way towards Snape and coiled around his neck and shoulders, providing well needed warmth.

" Will I see you again?"

" Of course you will." She whispered. " In your dreams and only in that place of fantasy." He shook his head.

" I won't let that happen."

" Well, this is out of character. Severus Snape never falls in love, or so the rumours claim." She turned away and before Snape was able to prevent anything from happening, the slender beauty vanished


	2. Chapter Two

Snape opened the wooden doors and stepped into the castle, the warmth flushing over him and he appreciated the sensation immensely. The entrance hall was silent and motionless, the darkness filled the great space taking away any of the welcoming atmosphere.

" Lumos." Snape muttered, pulling out his wand. A thin beam of light was emitted from his wand and he could see the hall with a greater clarity. He saw a dark figure at the end of the hall, it was gradually approaching Snape. The beam of light spread across her face, revealing her identity and her astonishing beauty. Celia drew the red scarf to her fingers. It billowed in the non existent wind, pulling towards Snape. He stared unrestrainedly at the enigmatic woman who had the magnificent power over him and allowed himself to be drawn into her.

" I couldn't resist." She confessed.

" I thought resisting would be simplistic." Snape struggled with his poor eloquence. But she knew what he was intending to say.

" You're glad I came aren't you?" She leant closer to Snape and kissed him gently on the cheek.

Snape refused to answer, instead he walked to the stairs, the woman followed eagerly. Every time he glanced back he saw how irresistible she was, her beauty was mesmerising, her blue eyes entrancing. He had to force himself to turn the other cheek, to appear uninterested or even mediocre if boredom proved too difficult. Celia was a risk and Snape hadn't made the decision if he wanted to pursue that risk and enter something dangerous.

He reached for the door knob and turned it surely. The door clicked open and revealed Snape's barren quarters and office. Celia raised her hand, sweeping it over the candles and they lit the room, revealing the sterile interior. Snape became suddenly ashamed of his living quarters however Celia had great admiration for it.

" A true professor's office." She looked around at the discord that was rarely seen in the annul Severus and he felt more exposed then ever. Celia approached the door that lead to the living quarters and pushed it open, revealing the beautiful interior. She took off her black outer cloak and hung it on the stand, revealing her satin dress and knee high boots. Hey eyes wandered around the lavish interior

" Would you like something to drink?" Celia only smiled.

A warm, gentle hand stroked Snape's cheek, the tenderness a new experience for the distant man. He enjoyed her delicate touch. Snape ran his fingers through Celia silky black hair, indulging in the sensory pleasure. The fear he experienced previous had vanished, it was meaningless. There was only one priority, Celia, this wondrous beauty that entered his life. He felt ever so privileged to be chosen by this magnificent specimen, this archetype beauty that it made the experience so much more memorable.

Her lips found his and the kiss was gentle, combining all of their emotions into one compact moment. It was almost too much to tolerate, the couple were ignorant of their surroundings, their only attention was devoted onto one another. Snape begun soft butterfly kisses down her slender neck. He absorbed the perfume, that rare essence of Celia that he wanted to revel in, that odour of rose oil.

Gently, Snape lay Celia on the satin bed, allowing her hair to splay against the sheets. She pulled him closer, greeting his jaw line with delicate kisses. Her hands pressed against his chest, forcing him onto the mattress. She started to work on the long line of buttons that awaited her. 

" Be careful of Jessica, she's loose." Celia smirked.

" You give them names?" She gave his chest a faint kiss and Snape managed to procure a small smile. " I love uncovering you Severus." There was simply no replacement for the touch of a woman and Snape wondered if anyone could replace Celia. For that brief period together, Snape felt wanted and included into something that was so beautiful. The element of risk had vanished, like his fear, and he soon came to the conclusion that the decision wasn't that difficult or taxing provided that it felt natural.

The sun broke over the horizon, allowing the golden light to spread over the sleepy, impoverished plains. Snape was awake, as he usually was at this time. The dreaming insomniac admired the sleeping Celia, regardless of her quiet, withdrawn snores. He kissed her cheek, careful not to awaken her and adjusted the thick quilt to protect her from the still evident cold. Gently, he got onto his feet, wrapping his black robe around him and he glided his feet into fluffy Slytherin slippers. He sat at his desk, a pile of uninspiring papers lay on his desk awaiting to be read and criticised.

Hermione Granger, the first name on top of the never ending pile of idiocy and blatant pointlessness. _The Alchemist_ as it was so appropriately titled was a detailed - however not an insightful - essay on Alfred De Compieur, a rich and well known potions master. Yes, it was all remarkably familiar. One man spurred by greed in the attempt to find a potion that was able to turn any metal into pure gold however, like so many others was unable to do so. It was well worthy of the D.

Ah, Neville Longbottom. What fond memories he had of this abysmal student. He didn't bother to even read the tittle, instead he simply wrote a remarkably cruel F and pushed it away. 

" Severus." Celia called, standing in the doorway looking tired and almost life less. " What are you doing exactly?"

" Grading pieces of work."

" ooh, sounds like fun." She pulled Snape up and kissed him passionately, ignoring the door that was gaping open gradually. Footsteps approached them and Snape forced himself to look up.

A slender yet starved man stood before them, his goatee grown into a thick, tangled beard. His cold eyes bore into Severus however Severus did not break eye contact.

" Karakoff." Snape drawled, gently pushing Celia away.

" You look like shit." Celia said unashamedly. The former head master sneered.

" What do you want?'

" Oh, nothing of great importance." Snape glanced over to his wand which was lying dormant in the desk draw. His fingers itched to hold that ebony wand. " Only that you are in such a dilemma that nobody can save you. Well, perhaps me and your former leader, but you are no longer interested in either of us so you shall remain isolated."

" You're wasting my time, do me a favour and remove yourself from my office."

" Annoying you is much more pleasurable." Snape stood up and walked over to the tall Karakoff. He was not afraid of the weak, dependant man in the slightest. He will always follow power, regardless of what shape or form it took and that was a far from admirable trait.

" Ahh, I see." Snape grabbed Karakoff's collar and threw him against the desk, the lose parchments flew across the room, showering it with pointless, vulgar pieces of homework and poorly written literature.

" Snape!" Karakoff hissed. Celia took charge of the situation and she placed her heeled boots against Karakoff's neck, firmly pinning him to the stone floor.

" Spill it!" She yelled at him. His cold eyes were widened in fear as he looked into the hungry girl's face. She craved inducing the pain onto this hated figure, this cowardly piece of rot who deserved absolutely nothing, especially not her mercy.

" Voldemort ..." He wheezed. Snape glared at him with pure satisfaction. He really did have an excellent taste in women. " He's after ... You ... Wants ... Dead ..."

" He can't touch me here." Snape reasoned.

" More ... than capable." 

" How is he capable of touching me?" He demanded once more, mining this fresh resource for information.

" A gate ... way ... Can go ... unnoticed ... Well disguised ..." She threw the desk onto Karakoff, who lay there pinned.

" Like to share anything else with the rest of the class?" Celia asked, mockingly. " No?" She lifted her thin heeled boot up and thin blades ran down the heel.

" Don't ... Have ... Mercy ... I have more information ... Please ..." She had no intention of divulging to the man's wish.

" You always have information Karakoff." There was no warmth in her eyes, only hatred and it intensified when she drove her boot into Karakoff's neck, killing him instantaneously.

" We have to clean the body and dispose of him. Throw him to the wolves." Snape was whiter than usual, his pallid face sickened by the sight. He helped Celia push the desk off the pinned body and pulled the lifeless body to the window. " Let the beasts devour him. Come on, we have breakfast don't we?"

" We should have scoured him for information."

" There is no need. You said yourself that Voldemort can't touch you so why persist on worrying?"

Celia pressed Snape against the wall, kissing the stunned professor with more intensity and forcing him into silence. She deepened the kiss, allowing her uninhibited passion to flow with more freedom. Snape however was not focusing properly, he had witness a murder and all this girl could concentrate on was lust. He couldn't stop, it had reached animalistic proportions and they both slammed the bedroom door shut, leaving the dead body behind, along with their thoughts on the murder.


End file.
